


Lean on Me

by BecauseImClassy



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: But only a little, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Identity Reveal, Karen sees a fight, can be shippy or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:32:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6271744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseImClassy/pseuds/BecauseImClassy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen gives an injured Daredevil some assistance, and realizes who he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lean on Me

**Author's Note:**

> I stayed home sick today, and this happened. I had the basic idea a few months ago, but didn't have the motivation until now to think it through and write it up.

Karen hurries home through the dark, snowy streets. Not many people are around, it’s too cold to be out if you don’t have to be. All she wants is a hot drink, maybe a bath….

Ahead, she hears the sounds of a scuffle. She drops back to flatten herself against a building, then edges up and peers around the corner into an alley. Scuffle? More like a brawl. She can see three men lying unmoving on the ground, two more still on their feet and pummeling each other. And there’s just enough light to see that one of them wears a mask, with little horns.

She holds her breath, watching. He’s taking a beating. He’s fought three men into the ground already, and this last one is bigger than he is, and obviously strong. What’s worse, she realizes that the man in the mask is favoring one leg, trying not to put his weight on it. And even as she watches, his opponent lands a vicious kick to his knee, drawing a pained yell out of him.

The sound pulls Karen forward. He’s hurt, she can’t just stand by and watch him get hurt worse, maybe killed. She slips into the shadows of the alley, and cautiously works her way forward, scanning the ground. She knows better than to run right into the fight, she’d probably do more harm than good. But if she can find something to throw….She scoops up a good-sized rock and ducks into the shadow of a dumpster.

 _Careful now. Wait for it. Make sure you hit the right one._ She packs wet, heavy snow around her missile and watches for a clear shot—there! The two men break apart momentarily, several feet between them, and she steps forward and launches her rock. She has good aim, and a good arm, and hits her target high on his back. It doesn’t drop him—she didn’t expect it would. But it distracts him, and it’s enough. As the big man turns toward her, Daredevil gathers himself to spring, a club in each hand, and rains down blows on his opponent’s head until he falls to the ground and doesn’t move.

Daredevil holsters his clubs and stumbles, gasping for breath. His weight comes down on his bad leg, and he cries out again as Karen runs forward. She grabs his arm, not stopping to think about whether or not that’s actually a smart thing to do, and pulls it around her shoulders.

“Here, lean on me. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He starts back slightly—does he recognize her? Would he remember her after all these weeks?—but takes the offered support, leaning on her heavily. For a moment they just stand there, Daredevil panting painfully as his breath comes back.

Karen’s never been this close to him before, and she looks curiously at what she can see of his face. A jaw covered in dark stubble, a pair of lips that look…familiar. Cold shock flows through her like ice water. Even as she tells herself _That’s impossible,_ she’s taking in every detail: his height, build, extrapolating hair color from the stubble, everything matches. She thinks back over all the inexplicable things about Matt Murdock. The nights he doesn’t answer his phone, his injuries, the so-called car accident when she knew, she _knew_ he wasn’t telling her the truth. It all makes sense—except that it doesn’t. Matt is _blind._

She can feel her heart pounding. He glances toward her as if he’s heard something, then turns his face sharply away from her and tries to disengage from their semi-embrace. She holds on.

“Where do you think you’re going? You can’t walk on that leg.” He stops, tries his weight on the bad leg, and proves that she’s right. He clings to her, trying to suppress the involuntary cry of pain, and producing a strangled gasp. Karen watches him closely. “Listen, you need help. You won’t want the hospital, I’m guessing?” He shakes his head, but doesn’t speak, and keeps his face turned away. And suddenly she’s sure. Why avoid speaking, why hide his face, unless he’s afraid of her recognizing him?

She leans in as close as she can get to his averted head, and whispers, “Matt.” He freezes into absolute stillness in her arms. “Holy shit,” she says quietly. “ _How_ —no, never mind, how can wait. First we need to get you someplace safe.” She tries to think. He heaves a deep sigh, turns back toward her, and finally speaks.

“I’ll be fine if I can get home.”

“All right. Home. Let’s see, you can’t walk that far. We’d better take a cab.”

“But then the driver would know where I live, I can’t.”

“What you can’t do is go staggering around the city injured, we’d be sitting ducks for anyone else who wants to take a shot at you tonight. No, just listen. You _can_ take a cab, as long as you don’t look like Daredevil.” Thank goodness, her winter coat is a proper parka, not some fashionable girly nonsense. “Let’s just get behind that dumpster…” She helps him limp heavily into the dumpster’s shadow, where they can’t be seen.

“Now. Here’s what we’ll do. Push back your cowl, just let it hang down behind you, then put on my coat. It’s long, it should cover you about halfway to your knees.” He does as she says, and it’s still a shock to see Matt’s face emerge from underneath Daredevil’s mask.

He takes her coat reluctantly. “Karen, you’ll freeze.”

“Depends on how long it takes us to hail a cab. I’ll keep my hat and mittens. And I can’t think of a better idea, can you?” He shakes his head, and puts on the coat.

Karen looks him over critically. “That’ll do, I think. We can’t do anything about your legs, but hopefully no one’s going to be looking at them too closely.” She’s shivering already, glad at least she’s sensibly dressed in long pants and a big, thick sweater. “Okay, so, for the benefit of the cab driver, you are my drunk boyfriend. That should explain the stagger, and the fact that your eyes don’t track. All right?”

“All right. Thank you.” He wraps his arms around her, trying to keep her warm while he leans on her for support. She looks around as they turn toward the street, and suddenly remembers the four unconscious men.

“I hope they’re not waking up.”

Matt cocks his head like he’s listening. “They’re still out. We should be fine.”

“How can you tell?”

He sighs. “I can hear them breathing. I can hear their heartbeats.”

She stares at him. “You can?”

“Yes. I can hear… a lot. More than you’d guess.” He shakes his head, resigned. “I’ll tell you everything, once we’re home.”

“You’d better,” she mutters, and they make their unsteady way out of the alley to the street.

When a cab pulls up, Matt remembers to act drunk, putting a big smile on his face and leaning on Karen as she helps him into the back seat. The cabbie looks at them dubiously.

“Is he drunk? Is he gonna barf in my cab?”

“No, no,” Karen assures him. “He’s not that drunk, are you babe?”

Matt feigns indignation, still grinning. “Drunk? Me? Nooooooo.”

Karen rolls her eyes. “He won’t barf, I promise. He just needs a little help getting home.”

Matt gives his address, too loudly, and the cab drives off. He curls up on the seat, puts his head on Karen’s shoulder, and closes his eyes.

She pets his hair. “Okay, sweet pea. You just relax, we’ll be home soon.”

They don’t speak for the rest of the ride, but Matt’s thoughts are racing. He’s incredibly lucky that Karen happened along when she did. He might not have won that fight without her help, and even if he did, getting home on a badly wrenched knee would have been no easy task.

But now she knows! A weight of apprehension settles in his stomach like a stone. What’s going to happen once they get home? Telling the truth to Foggy was one of the most painful things he’s ever done. And if Foggy Nelson, his best friend in the world, took it so badly, how can he expect any better from Karen? He feels misery creeping over him at the thought of another fight, of Karen turning her back on him like Foggy did.

But Foggy came back. Maybe, maybe Karen will, too. He’s shocked that she recognized him so quickly tonight. Granted, she knows him much better now than she did back on the night the man in the mask had saved her life. But still. He’d heard her sharp intake of breath, heard the increase in her heart rate, almost as soon as she was close enough to get a good look at him.

Really, everything about her is surprising him tonight. She saw him fighting and stepped in to help, instead of getting the hell away from that alley like any sensible person would. And then, in the face of a shocking revelation, she put aside all the questions she must have, to take care of him. She didn’t try to talk him into going to a hospital, just thought up a simple, effective plan for getting him home safely. And now she sits beside him, her arm around him, apparently perfectly calm. (Well no, she isn’t, but he only knows that because he can hear her heart.)

In short, she’s amazing. He’s always known that she’s brave, and caring, and highly competent. But even so, tonight she’s surprised him. He hopes desperately that learning the truth about him isn’t going to drive her away. The thought of losing her is suddenly unbearably painful.

The cab pulls up at his building, and Karen helps him out—“Here we are, lover boy, come on,”—and pays the driver. Matt’s walking slightly more easily now, after the rest, but he still needs to lean most of his weight on her. Once inside the door, they both sigh at the stairwell before them.

“You had to live on the top floor of a building with no elevator.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He groans at the though of all those steps, but Karen has an idea.

“Sit down on the stairs, then use your arms and your good leg to hoist yourself up.” He can’t help laughing at the ridiculousness of going up the stairs on his butt like a toddler, but he can’t deny it’s the easiest way to do it. She stays beside him as he goes, and helps him scoot around the landings. He stops partway up to give his arms a rest, and she sits next to him.

“Sweet pea?” he asks, eyebrow raised. “Lover boy?”

“Oh, did you like those? I can think of plenty more names I could call you.” She sounds like she’s smiling, but there’s also a slight edge to her voice, reminding him of the difficult conversation still ahead of them.

He takes her hand, and tries as nearly as he can to look her in the face. “I’m sorry.”

For a moment she doesn’t speak. Then, very quietly: “Were you ever going to tell me?”

He bows his head. “I don’t know.” It’s the most honest answer he can give her. “When I first started doing this, my plan was to tell no one, ever. I still think that's the safest way, to not drag anyone else into my…activities. I didn’t even tell Foggy. But he found out, just a few weeks ago, and…he didn’t take it well.”

“So that’s what you two were fighting about. You said it was all your fault.” She gives a short laugh. “And Foggy said he wanted to tell me, but couldn’t. Now I understand.”

“So no, I didn’t have any plans to tell you. It’s possible I would have, eventually. Foggy’s been pushing me to.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

She sighs too. “Well, I appreciate the honesty. Better late than never.” They sit in silence, still holding hands, until he’s ready to continue up the stairs. He explains to her how to get into his apartment by the roof access door, and sends her on ahead while he hoists himself up the last flight.

Karen enters Matt’s apartment through the upper door and comes down the stairs, nearly tripping over the gaping hole she’d forgotten was there, the bottom steps caved in from some powerful impact. The damage to his apartment makes sense to her now—he said no one broke in, but he definitely fought someone in here. Was that his so-called car accident, or was that a different fight?

She shivers a little, looking around the living room in the eerie light from the billboard outside. How often does he do this? Go out and get into fights? And _how_ does he? Well, he said he’d tell her everything, and she’s going to hold him to it. Apparently he’s got super hearing, that’s a start. However he does it, it’s pretty amazing. _He’s_ pretty amazing. Yes, she’s angry right now, and hurt, that he’s been lying to her all this time. But she can’t help admiring what he’s doing.

And she can’t help thinking about the danger. She knows how well he can fight. She smiles a little, remembering him kicking ass in the rain outside her apartment building. But he can also be outnumbered. He can need help. And what happens to him if there is no help? What if he gets hurt, really badly hurt, or— _No._ She won’t think it. She may be angry at him now, but she can’t bear to imagine her life without him in it. Brave, idealistic, reckless Matt.

She unlocks the main door to the apartment, and goes back out to meet him at the top of the stairs. He’s managed to haul himself back up to a standing position by the railing. She slips her arm around him once more, and he leans on her shoulder.

“Almost there, snooky-poo!” she says brightly, and is rewarded by the look of horror on his face.

“My god. Thank you for not using that one in front of witnesses.” 

She starts to giggle, and then he does, too, as they limp their way down the hall to his door. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> I love a good identity reveal. I also love Karen being awesome, and Getting Shit Done. So I combined the two!


End file.
